


A Girl I Knew Somewhere

by lunarknightz



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Crossover, Episode: s05e22 The Gift, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 16:10:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8292043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarknightz/pseuds/lunarknightz
Summary: Sam hasn't thought about Sunnydale in a long time. And now he can't get Dawn out of his head... set in the same alternate universe as "Welcome Home".





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set on May 22, 2001. If you think about it, reasons for that specific date will become apparent. In the Buffyverse, we're at the end of season 5, in SPN world, Sam is finishing his Freshman year at Stanford. It's set in the same universe as "Welcome Home", a bit down the road.

_Staring down through faces, that bring to mind traces  
Of a girl, a girl that I knew somewhere.- "The Girl I Knew Somewhere", The Monkees._

 

 

“You really are a slob.” Jess said, looking around Sam’s cluttered dorm room. “Did you grow up in a barn?”

Sam shook his head. He couldn’t exactly tell Jess that the majority of his childhood was spent riding in the backseat of an Impala. “Believe it or not, I’m the best housekeeper in the family. Seriously, neither my Dad nor my brother knows the meaning of the word mop.”

Jess giggled. “You don’t have to make excuses, Sam. Finals are enough to drive anyone insane.”

“Do you have to remind me?” He groaned. “You’re finished with your tests- I still have that killer Bio final tomorrow.”

“You’ll do fine.” She said, kissing his cheek lightly. “You always do.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never had to study and pack up my dorm room at the same time. Are they just trying to drive us over the edge? I can’t believe I have to get all this shit packed up and leave by 5:00 tomorrow night. Stupid rule.”

“I’ll tell you what.” Jess said, wrapping her arms around Sam’s waist. “You sit down and absorb as much Biology as you can, and I’ll help you pack.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking me. I’m insisting.”

“Are you sure? You’re packed and ready to go?” 

She nodded. “ Yup. All I have to do is wait for my parents to get here with the truck, and I’ll be gone.” She paused slightly. “But you’ll have to buy me dinner.”

“Sure. Anything. What do you want?”

“Pizza. Domiono’s. Loaded.” She grinned. “And ask for a Diet Coke, will you?”

 

***

 

“An actual photo album, filled with pictures. I’m impressed.”

“Huh?” Sam said, looking up from his biology notes. “What are you talking about?”

“This, silly.” She said, walking over and handing him a small photo album. The cover of the album was a purple fuzzy material. 

“Oh.” He said, opening up the book. “It was a gift.”

“Care to explain any?”

“I told you that we moved around a lot, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, when I was in middle school, we lived in this one town in California. Sunnydale. It was like, the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere. When we left, our friends put together a couple of photo albums for us to remember them by. I’ve got one, and Dean has one."

“Do you mind if I look?”

“Nah.” Sam leaned over and put his Biology notes on his desk. “Sit down.” He said, pulling Jess into his lap. 

“Okay.” She said with a smile, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

He opened the book, and the first picture was of Dean and himself, posed outside the Sunnydale cemetery. 

“Is that a cemetery?”

“It was a crazy dare.” Sam explained, not wanting to explain the mechanics of living on a Hellmouth to Jess. “But that’s me, and of course, my big brother.”

Sam flipped through the pictures, introducing Jess to a group of people who had meant very much to him, once upon a time. He hadn’t thought about them in a long time.

“That’s Willow. She was like, this whiz at computers. She taught me, like most of everything I know.”

“That’s Xander….he was one of Dean’s best friends. It’s his fault that I like Star Trek.”

“That’s Cordelia…Dean dated her a few times, I think. She had this tongue that was like acid, and it was all you could do to tell her not to shut up.”

“Mr. Giles….he was the librarian at the High School. He let me help out in the library sometimes.” 

That was close enough to the truth- he couldn’t exactly explain that Giles had been like his own personal Mr. Miyagi, now could he? One day he’d have to explain his life to Jess, but not now. Not while things were going so right. Sam was happy around Jess. He hadn’t been this happy…ever.

He quickly flipped the page away from Giles. The next shot was one of Dean and Buffy, standing side by side, shooting each other a weird glance, each with a smirk on their face.

“Who is she?”

“Buffy. Buffy Summers. Buffy and my brother…they had this weird thing. Sometimes it was a relationship, and then suddenly it wasn’t. They were either trying to rip each other’s clothes off or fighting like cats and dogs.”

“Awwww.”

“You think that’s sweet?”

She nodded. “Yup.” Jess turned the page to the last one in the book. “Okay, genius…who’s that?”

“Huh?” It had been a long time since he’d looked through the album, but Sam could recall the last picture- one of Dean, Buffy, and himself, after a training session, in a weird sort of group hug. “It’s Buffy.”

“I thought that was Buffy.” She pointed.

Sam looked down at the photo. Jess was pointing to Buffy, all right. Buffy was standing in the middle, one arm wrapped around Dean’s mid-section, and the other around Sam’s neck. And linked through Sam’s arm was that of another girl, slightly younger than the Sam in the picture. 

He gazed down at the brunette girl for a second, with no recognition. And then, like a flash of lightning, he remembered. 

“That’s Dawn.” He said softly. “Buffy’s little sister. She was like, three years younger than me.” 

“Oh. Did you two hang out a lot?”

He nodded. “Well, Dean and Buffy were together a lot, or Dad would go out and tell Dean to watch me, and Dean would dump me over at the Summers’ house. So Dawn and I were thrown together a lot, and after awhile, we got to be really good friends.”

How could he forget Dawn? Sunnydale would have been such a lonely place for him without her. 

“There was even this one time….my Dad asked Mrs. Summers out. She was divorced, and Dawn and I both totally freaked out. We totally sabotaged their date, which was actually, now that I think about it, the only date I’ve ever seen my Dad go out on. Now it seems stupid, but we so didn’t want our parents together, so we tagged along on their date to this French Restaurant…” Sam’s words trailed off. It was best to leave out the zombies.

“Sounds like she was a pretty good friend.” 

“Yeah.” Sam closed the album gently and placed it on his desk. 

He really didn’t feel like studying Biology. 

“Want to go get some ice cream?”

 

***

The green glow of his alarm clock announced that it was three o clock in the morning. 

Sam’s head was jam packed with biology. He couldn’t fit another thought about meosis or mitosis inside his head, but Sam felt confident that he’d do well on the test tomorrow. He was packed, thanks to Jess. Most of his stuff he’d put in storage over the summer- it would be easier than trying to lug it all to wherever Dad and Dean were at the moment on the Greyhound. 

He was exhausted, but couldn’t quite sleep yet. Sam opened up his laptop and signed on the campus network. He pulled up Google.com and typed in “Dawn Summers”. A link led him to the Sunnydale Herald Obituary page. His heart beat fast in his chest as he waited for it to load- had Buffy’s slayer activities finally done her in? Had something happened to Dawn, the young girl with the pretty smile? It didn’t seem possible.

_Joyce Summers, 43, died of an aneurysm on Tuesday. She was the owner and operator of the Sunnydale Art Gallery, in midtown. She is survived by her two daughters, Buffy Summers, 20, and Dawn Summers, 14, both of Sunnydale; as well as her ex-husband Hank Summers, of Los Angeles and a host of loving friends._

Joyce had died in February. He couldn’t send flowers or chocolate out of the blue…not knowing what to do, Sam emailed the page to Dean. Dean always seemed to know what to do.

Sam slept fitfully that night, dreaming of Dawn. He dreamed of her crying, of her kneeling at a grave not encscribed with her mother’s name, but with Buffy’s. 

He hadn’t thought of her in years, but now all of senses were focused on a girl he knew once, somewhere.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted January 2006.


End file.
